Cautiously and steadily we felt our way, covered by half the troop in extended order, commanded by Lieutenant Sandeman, who summarily brushed out of our road sundry small bodies of hostile horsemen whom he encountered. My half troop was in support, and when the skirmishing began we pushed on and joined in the fun. Through orchards and plantations with occasional open fields an intermittent series of little fights was kept up as we continued our advance.
Suddenly, just as we emerged from a grove of trees on to an open plain, a distant puff of smoke followed by a loud report and then by the well-known hoarse hiss of a round shot as it tore through the air above us, gave unmistakable notice that the ball had begun. Another shot fell short, hit the ground in front of us, and then ricoched over our heads to the rear. Another and another in quick succession passed harmlessly. While this was going on I had instinctively taken ground to the right to make room for the troops which I knew would be pushed forward. The squadron of the 9th Lancers followed my example—a troop of horse artillery thundered up from the rear—more cavalry galloped out to the left of the guns—and, like magic, a line was formed to the front, the guns in the centre, with cavalry on both flanks. A trumpet sounded the "advance," and the "gallop," and away we swept over the plain, straight for the enemy's position, under a furious fire, too furious and rapid, fortunately, to do us much mischief. One round shot smote a man of the 9th Lancers full in the face. His head disappeared into space. In a few moments we were within a hundred yards of the enemy, still frantically blazing away at us. Here we came to a halt; and our own guns, with the astonishing swiftness which is the admiration of all other branches of the army, unlimbered and came into action. Very different was their practice from that of the rebel artillery. Equally rapid, but with calm regularity, working like parts of a perfect machine, gun after gun, carefully and accurately laid, pounded away at the opposing battery, and with almost instantaneously overpowering effect. A very few rounds, and the fire of the enemy slackened away, and soon nearly ceased altogether.
While this artillery duel was going on I had a good opportunity of observing the effect of what is popularly known as "blue funk" on a young recruit. He was in the rear rank; and while the excitement of galloping to the front lasted, had kept his place among his comrades; but to sit still within a hundred yards of guns belching out smoke and noise and round shot was more than his nerves were equal to; and he began—half unconsciously, I daresay—to pull on his horse's head and gradually back him out of the ranks. This would never do! Example is catching, so I galloped round behind him and used language calculated to bring him to his senses, but without effect. With his mouth half-open and his eyes starting out of his head he continued to stare at the terrifying guns, greeting each explosion with a horrified little groan; and all the time he kept backing his horse on to me. I was obliged to put an end to this. In another moment he would have bolted and disgraced us all—possibly infected some of his comrades with his own panic. For the last time I shouted that I would run my sword into him if he did not "dress up." He took no heed; and I lunged at him with all my force. His luck saved him. He had a small buffalo-hide buckler hanging from his left shoulder; and instinctively he twisted half round and caught the point of my sword in it, and there it stuck. The more I pulled and the worse language I used, the less would it come out; and I am afraid the string of words with which I expressed my disgust must have been far from discreetly chosen, when behind me a voice exclaimed:—"Who commands this party?" Looking round, the unfortunate recruit's panic was nothing to what mine became, when I saw the stern face of the Commander-in-Chief, Sir Colin Campbell. Caught in the act of trying to kill one of my own men, visions of a court-martial—of the loss of my commission—swam before me, as with one despairing effort I wrenched the blade out of the buckler, and, dropping its point to the Chief, stammered out my defence. "I really couldn't help it, Sir? He was showing the white feather. I was afraid he would bolt." To my intense relief the grim features relaxed into a smile. "Never mind," said Sir Colin, "you were quite right. They are trying to carry off some of their guns to the right front. Gallop after them and catch them." It may be imagined I lost no time in carrying out that order and placing as great a distance as possible between me and His Excellency. My young recruit came too, and afterwards behaved very well. He turned out a good soldier after that "baptism of fire." A hard gallop soon brought us up with the flying enemy, who were "pounded" by a big ditch, where they abandoned the guns and took to their heels, but too late to save themselves. Here I had rather a narrow escape from abruptly ending my military experiences. Two "Pandies," whom I was pursuing, suddenly turned round and stood at bay, and almost simultaneously lashed at me with their tulwars as I charged between them. The man on the right brought his sword down on my head, fortunately protected by a thick "puggari," many folds of which it divided, and then glanced down on to my horse's shoulder, inflicting a long and deep wound. At the same moment I delivered a swinging cut on his own cranium which was covered by a small skull cup. That settled him effectually; but I had barely time to throw my sword round and receive on it a sweeping blow from the fellow on my left, which partially overpowered my guard and landed on my ribs, luckily much diminished in force; so that I escaped with a trifling flesh wound. He did not get another chance; for I dropped the point of my blade and ran him through the body. I was well out of that scrimmage, but my unlucky horse was quite disabled; so I had to dismount and entrust him to the care of one of my men, whose animal I borrowed for the rest of the day; and a very poor exchange I found it, both as regards charger and saddle.
I feel I must interrupt my narrative to beg the reader's indulgence for the introduction of descriptions of some of the adventures which happened to me personally. I trust he may believe that it is not due to any foolish desire to pose before him; nor to a wish, in the words of Mr. Wardle's fat boy, "to make his flesh creep;" but simply because I want to make these sketches as graphic as I can; and it seems to me that the effect would be to wash the colour out of them if I were to divest them of every touch of personal interest. In campaigns like those of the Mutiny in which our irregular cavalry was so freely used and played so important a part, hand-to-hand conflict was much more frequent than in ordinary wars. In fact, every officer of that branch had numberless opportunities of testing his skill at arms; for skirmishes were often of almost daily occurrence; and in each skirmish he carried his life literally at the point of his sword. To resume: A few minutes afterwards another adventure of a "touch and go" nature befell me. In a mêlée a brother officer had singled out a rebel foot soldier, and was hotly striving to cut him down, but his antagonist with bayonet fixed kept him at bay, and had just brought his musket to his shoulder to fire, when most luckily in the very nick of time I saw what was going on, and charged the Pandy, who, disconcerted by the sudden attack, hurriedly attempted to shift his aim on to me, but ineffectually. As he pulled the trigger his bullet sped harmlessly past my face, while I brought the edge of my sword down on his skull with such good will that it clave in two, and he fell dead. That fortunate interference in an unequally matched combat à deux probably saved from an untimely ending a life which has since proved of the highest value and usefulness, while it preserved to me a dear comrade and lifelong friend. Among the most cherished of my possessions is the sword which he gave me as a memento of the affair.
The resistance offered by the enemy to Sir Colin's advance was not sufficiently serious to check it; and in fact no deployment of his troops was necessary. The heads of his columns steadily moved forward and gradually approached the position on the high ground which he had decided to occupy as affording the best point from which to carry out his plans for the subjugation of Lucknow.
While my troop was moving up a slope close to the Dilkhoosha we were suddenly gratified by the sight of a body of horse, about forty or fifty strong, which appeared in line on the crest of it coming towards us at a walk. The French-grey uniforms of this squad left no doubt as to its belonging to one of the old regular regiments; and my hopes rose high that now we were to have an opportunity of wiping out some of the disgrace which their treason had brought upon all who had belonged to their branch of the service of Old John Company: but the cowards declined to give us the chance.
"Threes about" they went the moment they saw us, and immediately disappeared, hidden from us by the rising ground. It may be imagined that we lost no time in driving in our spurs and galloping after them: but when we arrived at the top of the slope they had made such good use of their horses' legs that they were already far away, pelting along, in clouds of dust, over the plain below, and heading for a ford across the Goomti river, into which they presently plunged. The hurry they were in was good to see, as was their complete indifference to any pretence at keeping any sort of formation. Evidently they realised that this was no time to be hampered by pedantic adherence to "drill." Such mechanical regularity of movement might be all very well for the parade-ground; but in real soldiering, such as this, "individual initiative" must take its place. In they went, by twos and threes, just as they came to the ford, and floundered across: but at this juncture a couple of guns of ours opened on them, and made their passage very uncomfortable; for those who were not knocked out of their saddles got drenched by the splash of the projectiles. Once across, they continued their career at best speed for another mile or two before drawing rein. On the whole, I do not think they enjoyed that morning's ride very much.
FOOTNOTE:
[11] Beware.